The Great and Secret Show

He smiled at her. ‘What’s wrong with giving your brother a ride?’ he said. She was almost taken in by the performance, until she nodded her acquiescence and caught the smile dropping from his lips.

‘We have to trust each other,’ he said, once they were in the car and moving. ‘Like we always have.’

‘I know that.’

‘Because we’re strong together, right?’ He was staring through the window, glassy-eyed. ‘And right now I need to feel strong.’

‘You need to get some sleep. Why don’t you let me drive you back? It doesn’t matter if I’m late.’

He shook his head. ‘Hate that house,’ he said.

‘What a thing to say.’

‘It’s true. We both hate it. It gives me bad dreams.’

‘It’s not the house, Tommy.’

‘Yes, it is. The house, and Momma, and being in this fucking town! Look at it!’ Suddenly, out of nowhere, he was raging. ‘Look at this shit! Don’t you want to tear the whole fucking place apart?’ His volume was nerve-shredding in the confines of the car. ‘I know you do,’ he said, staring at her, eyes now wild and wide. ‘Don’t lie to me, little sister.’

‘I’m not your little sister, Tommy,’ she said.

‘I’m thirty-five seconds older,’ he said. This had always been a joke between them. Suddenly it was power-play. ‘Thirty-five seconds more in this shit-hole.’

‘Stop talking stupid,’ she said, bringing the car to a sudden halt. ‘I’m not listening to this. You can get out and walk.’

‘You want me shouting in the street?’ he said. ‘I’ll do it. Don’t think I won’t. I’ll scream ’til their fucking houses fall down!’

‘You’re behaving like an asshole,’ she said.

‘Well, there’s a word I don’t hear from my little sister’s lips too often,’ he said, with smug satisfaction. ‘Something’s got into both of us this morning.’

He was right. She found his rage igniting her in a way she’d never allowed it to before. Twins they were, and in so many ways similar, but he had always been the more openly rebellious of the two. She had played the quiescent daughter, concealing the contempt she’d felt for the Grove’s hypocrisies because Momma, so much its victim, still needed its approval. But there were times when she’d envied Tommy-Ray’s open contempt, and longed to spit in the eye of propriety the way he had, knowing he’d be forgiven his trespasses upon payment of a smile. He’d had it easy, all those years. His tirade against the town was narcissism; he was in love with himself as rebel. And it was spoiling a morning she’d wanted to luxuriate in.

‘We’ll talk tonight, Tommy,’ she said.

‘Will we?’

‘I just said we would.’

‘We have to help each other.’

‘I know.’

‘Especially now.’

He was suddenly hushed, as though all the rage had gone from him in a single breath, and with it all his energy.

‘I’m afraid,’ he said, very quietly.

‘There’s nothing to be afraid of, Tommy. You’re just tired. You should go home and sleep.’

‘Yeah.’

They were at the Mall. She didn’t bother to park the car. ‘Take it home,’ she said. ‘Lois will run me back this evening.’

As she went to get out of the car he took hold of her arm, his fingers gripping her so hard it hurt.

‘Tommy –’ she said.

‘You really mean it?’ he said. ‘There’s nothing to be afraid of?’

‘No,’ she said.

He leaned over to kiss her.

‘I trust you,’ he said, his lips very close to hers. His face filled her sight; his hand held her arm as though he possessed her.

‘Enough, Tommy,’ she said, pulling her arm free. ‘Go home.’

She got out, slamming rather than closing the car door, deliberately not looking back at him.

‘Jo-Beth.’

Ahead of her, Howie. Her stomach flipped at the sight of him. Behind her, she heard a car-horn blare, and glanced back to see that Tommy-Ray had not taken the wheel of the car, which was blocking access for several other vehicles. He was staring at her; reaching for the handle of the door; getting out. The horns multiplied. Somebody began to shout at him to get out of the way, but he ignored them. His attention was fixed upon Jo-Beth. It was too late for her to signal Howie away. The look on Tommy-Ray’s face made it plain he’d understood the whole story from the smile of welcome on Howie’s face.

She looked back at Howie, feeling an ashen despair.

‘Well lookee here,’ she heard Tommy-Ray say behind her.

It was more than despair; it was fear.

‘Howie –’ she began.

‘Christ, was I dumb,’ Tommy-Ray went on.

She tried a smile as she turned back to him. ‘Tommy,’ she said, ‘I want you to meet Howie.’

She’d never seen a look on Tommy-Ray’s face the like of the look she was witnessing now; hadn’t known those idolized features capable of such malice.

‘Howie?’ he said. ‘As in Howard?’

She nodded, glancing back at Howie. ‘I’d like you to meet my brother,’ she said. ‘My twin brother. Howie, this is Tommy-Ray.’

Both men stepped forward to shake hands, bringing them into her vision at the same time. The sun shone with equal strength on both, but it didn’t flatter Tommy-Ray, despite his tan. He looked sickly beneath the veneer of health he wore; his eyes sunk without a gleam, his skin too tightly drawn over his cheeks and temples. He looks dead, she found herself thinking. Tommy-Ray looks dead.

Though Howie extended his hand to be shaken Tommy-Ray ignored it, suddenly turning to his sister.

‘Later,’ he said, so softly.